


Paper Ties

by farfetched



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia (slight), Love Confessions, Love Letters, Pining, Unsent letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9943955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfetched/pseuds/farfetched
Summary: Hilda's mother finds the unsent letters in Hilda's room, and sets in motion events to bring about the true happiness of her daughter.





	

She smiles wryly, still so confused and at least half shocked, sitting on Hilda's bed, neatly tidied with the original occupant halfway across the region doing who-knew what but loving it. But obviously with a heavy heart for a completely different reason, about which her mother - unbeknownst to Hilda herself - phones up Bianca's parents, and eventually gets an Xtransceiver number, and shakily speaks to Bianca's flickering face, owlish and child-like, naïve with an element of a worldliness far older than anything. But perhaps it's just an illusion, like the papers under her fingers are not.

"Bianca, I wonder if you'd like to come and see this?"

The face nods, and she answers nothing as to what 'this' is, leaving a blank screen on the video phone as she moves downstairs and sits in front of a silently blaring television. She's not surprised, suspected this for a while, but she's shocked, confused, worried, happy and all these swirling things.

Perhaps Bianca's face will calm her like it never has done.

* * *

Bianca wonders when it started. Was it when Hilda stood between her and some bullies at their local school? Was it as late as when she saw Hilda's eyes sparkle after beating her and Cheren, a precious Tepig huddled in her arms in her room that Bianca had messed up? Was it when she first fleetingly thought that Hilda was beautiful?  
Was it much earlier than that, when Hilda's cot and her's were pressed next to each other, and her mother had described Bianca grinning and wrapping a hand around Hilda's, eliciting a smile from Hilda, connected for life? Was it much later than that, when she stands meekly in front of someone so far ahead of her in those few feet between them, looking earnestly into Hilda's eyes and saying ' _Please don't do anything crazy..._ ', meaning it from the depths of her heart?

Was it when her heart had burnt with pain seeing Hilbert and Hilda holding hands at the stupid school dance none of them wanted to go to, Bianca's own hand held uncomfortably in Cheren's? Was it when they'd sat on the edge of Nuvema Town looking over the ocean in front of them, ice cream melting over their hands on a summer evening, dreaming of the day they'd fly over such oceans they could only watch?

It could have been all these moments, or none of them. Bianca just knows that she's been in love with Hilda for longer than she's actually realised the feeling. She remembers being terrified of it, waking up after a vivid fantasy of Hilda over her, kneeling with legs either side of her body, bodies pressed together, aware of everything, with Hilda's mouth on hers, tongues wrapping together and so needy and she absolutely hated it. Hilda was I _normal_ /I, unlike her, and she would keep her awful wandering mind, heart and eyes from such a pure-hearted individual. She remembers torturing herself to rid her mind of those images, sending her mad with the wrongness of it all. She remembers putting up a ditzy smile for them all, pretending and she hated it all.

Nothing would make it worth it, but this came close.

* * *

_Hilda sighed; stretching as she retrieved the book she'd gotten for her mother from Nacrene Library, and passed it to her, shifting upstairs for some misplaced nostalgia of a time before travelling and battling._

_For some reason, she looks over at the bin, sees it overflowing with scrunched-up papers and blanches, suddenly filled with dread. Why hadn't they been burnt? Destroyed, or at least thrown away?_

_She makes a note of telling her mother, while she's leaving, to get rid of the things in her bin, and 'not to look at them'._

_Hilda might also have known that her mother was a curious person._

* * *

Hilda recalls writing those unsent letters, piling up as rubbish before she gives up, her heart gives out and she'd cried on the desk that night. Tangled words of _I think you should know that-_ and _Your smile is the most precious thing in the world to me-_ before they're revoked in fear. Bianca never got them anyway, better off not knowing, untainted by Hilda's fearful love.

Hilda has always thought they were opposites, her and Bianca: weak heart and strong mind against strong heart and weak mind. But that would require calling an element of Bianca weak and that's not right - she's admirable, followed Hilda all over Unova to the most dangerous places, and if she herself wasn't there, her heart was; that was always a comfort to Hilda.

Bianca was full of praise for her and self-deprecation, always saying ' _I know I'm weak but you're not, I believe in you Hilda!_ ': all Hilda wanted to do was sweep her up in her arms, lay kisses all over that forlorn face and tell her that she was beautiful no matter what, even if that wasn't quite Bianca's actual wording.

But she never could say a thing. She'd bite her tongue, try not to think of touching Bianca even a bit when she stepped in close, try not to be scared of consequences.

Hilda is always fearful though, of that.  
She can face N, face Reshiram, face Alder with a determined expression, a concentrated mind and win, but when it comes to giving Bianca the truth, all her confidence deserts her.

So when Bianca's visage pops up on her Xtransceiver sweetly asking for Hilda to come to Nuvema for a bit, she wavers before giving in to the request of her only love. Even though she can see the call had come from Hilda's own room, and Bianca held _those_ papers.

She does, however, tell Reshiram to fly as slowly as possible.

* * *

Dark falls before Hilda arrives, the Pidove finally quieting down for the night, Purrloin silently creeping the night. Bianca pours over those words in front of her, impatiently waiting for the slow flap of wings, desperate to find out if they are what she thinks they might be. Her name is sprinkled all over them, but the letters never get to the point, dancing and swerving the words that would truly make it obvious.

Hilda stands at the doorway.

"H-Hilda." They stare at each other for a long time, blue eyes meeting green, both guarded. Neither of them know where to begin, scared of leading and following, unsure of where the misunderstandings start anyway.

In the burdened silence, Bianca wishes she could release Samurott here, because her Pokémon would be able to calm her, and to give her the confidence to start setting things to rights. But she isn't an Oshawott anymore, no longer easily handled and it wouldn't help anything. So Samurott sits patiently in her Pokéball, waiting until her master needs her again.

Soothed by the thought of her beloved starter, she opens her mouth to start explaining, asking, only to find Hilda gone. The papers have disappeared too, and Bianca has an inkling of what's going to happen to them.

Samurott might do more than wait.

* * *

She comes upon a small blaze outside the town and cries before she can even work out what from, calling Samurott to douse everything in gallons of water. Hilda and her Emboar watch impassively as red turns blue, although the Pokémon shivers and crawls back to its pokéball, unwilling to lose its flames or get cold.

The letters are ruined, a black charcoal heap. Bianca sees a sodden scrap of paper, smudged ink markings over it, and wants to savour it. But she's got the chance at so much more, isn't it worth reaching just that much further?

She descends on Hilda before either of them have a chance to think, grasping Hilda's wrists tightly and causing her to look up. It's only when she sees those glistening blue eyes that she thinks, maybe Hilda didn't want to burn them. Maybe she felt she had no option, and it seems sad to Bianca to find her friend in such a state. To find the _Champion_ in such a state.

"Forget them. They weren't important." Hilda tries a smile at that blatant lie, those simple things mean so much it's untrue, symbolising such a struggle there's almost a war inscribed on them. A war between her and her emotions.

Bianca sort-of catches the irony, because none of this would have happened if they were unimportant, but goes with it.  
"Maybe they aren't. You are, though!" She breathes in, doesn't even think of what she's going to say. "H-Hilda, I... Were they... Did-"

Hilda says nothing, bringing her hands up to Bianca's shoulders and pushing her against the closest tree with none of the finesse that they both know she has. Desperate, she squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips to Bianca's, unable to stop herself, to regulate her emotions. She's tired, she's upset and she _wants_ \- wants this so much, wants Bianca to know, wants so much more than she already has.

Bianca never thought her first kiss, first twenty kisses would be like this, descending into needy shows of their emotions, reluctance and desire battling to form thousands of second long kisses, words slipped between them somehow. She thinks Hilda tells her that she meant every word on those papers and more in that husky breathless voice, that she never wants to leave, that she just can't stop loving Bianca and it's so wrong, but so right inside and why, but they're so lost in the touch, with Bianca's hands wrapping around Hilda's head and back dragging her closer that the words only just register.

Eventually though they both have to stop, breathing hard and staring at each other, a heady mix of desire, guilt and hysterical happiness bubbling up.

"I just, no, I can't- Bianca, I want..." Hilda closes her eyes for a moment, re-gathering her thoughts, and the blond trainer smiles at how lost for words her usual calm friend is. But when she reopens her deep blue eyes, Bianca immediately knows that she's serious. "I love you, I'm sorry. What we were always taught... I think it's wrong. I've seen so many people, travelling around, and now I want to live my own life too. If that's with you..." Her sapphire eyes take on a certain haze as she trails off.

"Don't be sorry!" Bianca cries - she doesn't want Hilda to be sorry for something she wants just as much. "I know it's supposed to be opposite genders, but I heard other people saying that if love's true, it doesn't matter. I want to find that out-" Her voice quietens somewhat, although with the proximity, Hilda can surely still hear her. "-with you."

Even in the gloom, with her muzzy hazel locks and trainer's cap half falling off her head, Bianca still thinks Hilda looks as amazing as every day, and to affirm everything she's said and thought over the last few hours, she presses a gentle, much slower kiss to Hilda's lips, smiling gleefully as the Champion returns the pressure.

Once they break apart for the second time, Bianca notes that Samurott had long since retreated to his pokéball, and the mass of soggy charcoal on the floor really can't be saved.

"I wish you hadn't burnt them."  
Hilda follows her gaze, and then nods.

"But the next ones won't be so fearful." The Champion smiles softly at her, while Bianca takes a moment to understand that due to Hilda's post, they'll probably still be spending a lot time apart, as there isn't room for lovers at the Pokémon League.

"I'll look forward to replying this time!"  
They both grin at that, before retrieving their pokémon and stepping back towards Nuvema, hands entwined.

**Author's Note:**

> From fanfiction.net, so if you've seen it before, that might be where! In any case, this whole thing spiralled from noticing that the player character's bin at home is full of paper. My brain works in weird tangents. Hope you enjoyed this one!


End file.
